Welcome to another week ofFriday Fictioneer. Missed last week due to extra work commitments and with this being a busier week, I thought I'd get one in before the week gets hectic. It is a day of sad memories for us, can't believe five years have passed since this entry In Our Hearts ForeverTo read the other blooming writers this week, click here.

Wednesday, February 06, 2019

My uncle was a diehard bachelor who consistently ignored match
making attempts. Growing up I recall my
mother and her sisters being convinced that this would be the year their
brother would marry.

Ultimately the sisters gave up and we learned about this one
girl who he loved but did not approach.
Ultimately she got married and moved away.

Then in his sixties my uncle discovered social media,
connections were made with old contacts, including the newly widowed flame. Within a month his Facebook status was changed
to ‘In a relationship’.

Who knew such flames of passion burned deep inside?

***

100 words.

If it's Wednesday then it must be the start of another episode ofFriday Fictioneer. This time it seems to be a flame game. I too had an entry four years ago The Liberating Fire which was a bit darker then this light-hearted submission. I hope you like it, all I can say is Burn appetit. To read the other blazing writers this week, click here.
I'd love read what you think about this post...

Wednesday, January 30, 2019

He is transfixed by changing colours of sky as daylight
seeps into dusk. Hints of a lilac remain
high above the fading light of the sunset. Moments like this offer plenty for quiet
contemplation and he remains lost in his thoughts.

This was supposed to be his time with the teens. He knew their nickname for him was ‘stable
parental’, something not encouraged by him but it still persisted.

‘Having fun?’ he inquired as they waved their mobiles in the
air.

‘Awesome dad, but the network is down. What’s the point of a great sunset if you can’t
Instagram it?’

***

100 words.

Here we go on another round of Friday Fictioneer. I am a bit stumped by this week's photo but I didn't want a late submission. I hope it is not 'tepeeid' prose ;-)To read the other writers this week, click here.

Saturday, January 19, 2019

Growing up my father and uncle would hint about a mysterious
power that I would acquire one day. It
became a standing joke between us.

Yesterday I found myself locked out with no one else at home.
Suddenly I felt this intense desire to be
inside and found myself passing through the door. I freaked out but as my leg came through, my body
was whole again taking out a section of the door.

A late entry to this week's of Friday Fictioneer. I was going all serious but then I scratched my entry out. I did debate with myself (I am weird like that) about using a word that is not in dictionary usage but instead comes to us from popular culture, oh alright from Harry Potter, but then again magic won in the end.To open the other broken doors click here.

Thursday, January 10, 2019

The tiny seaside hamlet was all agog with rumours of a raid
in their community. Some said it was
the environmental protection agency while the others felt that it was the IRS. The tiny group at the cafe sipping soy lattes
said it was time the Marine Molluscs Mafia got it’s just deserts.

The local Conchologists were divided. A segment felt that by selling fossils she
contributed important information about prehistoric life to the scientific
community, while others were against disturbing ecosystems.

Either way it is going to be a long time till she sells
seashells by the sea shore.

Wednesday, January 02, 2019

They call it the line of actual control, the bland term
disguising the partition of nations and people.A largely uninhabited area it remains a harsh and unforgiving landscape.

Yet countries go to war over it and words like nationalism
and patriotism are bandied about.Uttered mostly by experts sitting in comfortable surroundings.

He came back in a body bag.Not entirely whole, only the parts of him that were recovered after the
land mine blew him to smithereens.This
was to have been his last tour to the border areas.Another victim of a conflict that never ends.

***

Word Count : 100.

It's 2019 folks and the start of a new season of Friday Fictioneer. I hope all of you have had a great start to the new year.

Starting the year on a slightly sombre note. Unfortunately I did know someone who came back in a body bag over 21 years ago. That conflict still drags on and the armchair warriors grow more strident each year. Maybe this is the year when we usher peace in to the troubled regions of the world.Once again wishing everyone a very happy new year and to read the first words for this year, click here.

Thursday, December 27, 2018

They say the death of an opponent is not a time to
gloat. It is one that should be spent in
introspection and reflection. How we
treat our rivals in defeat is a measure of our character.

It is easy to be gracious in victory but how we handle
ourselves in the sting of defeat can really define us.

Tish! Tosh! And bah humbug while we are at it.

Can I say that a life time of hearing fairy tales about evil
trolls I am glad this goat is finally cooked.

Farewell Billy Goat Gruff, this troll does not forget.

***

Word Count : 100.

And before you know it the last Friday Fictioneer prompt for the year is here. This should have been a serious and reflective piece and that is how I started it. But then I did have fun with the writing prompts for this year so I flipped it around. So wishing everyone a very happy new year and to read the other last words for this year, click here.

Wednesday, December 19, 2018

Those shoes had been waiting for a long time. The location had not changed, on the shoe
rack next to the staircase. Each time he
descended they were there, staring at him, a reminder of the last master of the
house.

He had often asked her to throw them away but she refused
each time, as if they provided legitimacy to her new relationship.

Look I waited for him was the statement they made, held on
to his memories, didn’t discard and throw his belongings..

He threw them out one night, next to the field where his
secrets lay buried.

***

Word Count : 100.

So the prompt is a reminder that I have been participating in the Friday Fictioneers for a long time now. This was my entry five years back. To read the other old and new Fictioneers this week click here.

Saturday, December 01, 2018

It’s getting close to Christmas and his presents have
already started to arrive.He was out
during the day so the post has left a packet for him outside the doorstep.His knees clank as he bends down to pick it
up.It’s probably an early gift from one
of his old fellow adventurers.

The postmark tells him it is from Kansas.His eyes well up as memories that journey
with his friends comes flooding back.

The parcel is heavy but he already knows what’s inside.

I don’t have the heart
to tell her that my stock of oilcans is overflowing.

***

Word Count : 100.

Welcome all to another week of the Friday Fictioneers. To read what the other Fictioneers overheard this week click here

You have probably guessed my inspiration for this week so here is a song by Tin Man.

Thursday, November 22, 2018

We listen to conversations on the train. Oh OK, we eavesdrop, that is just what most
of us do. We spend our time listening to
conversations that flow like water rushing down a mountain. A crescendo of words gushing along.

It’s not idle curiosity that drives us. Oh no, we want to know what is going on in
your lives. That person you are flirting
with right now, not your spouse we know as you just got off the phone with them
five minute ago.

No we just want you to walk off the train into these pages we
write.

***

Word Count : 100.

Welcome all to another week of the Friday Fictioneers. I confess this is being written in a train where I did overhear some interesting conversation. To read what the other Fictioneers overheard this week click here